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#hello i am having an edward hopper summer moment
devilsskettle · 3 years
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nobody, mitski / edward hopper
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migilini · 3 years
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As it should be - Part 2
Part 1
Summary: "Your’e telling me I died in an average looking outfit?" There are many things Mo Summers was okay with but dying? That was a whole different story. Expecially if she wakes up alone, in a time she isnt familiar with...
Word count - 2100
warnings - none i think
Also on wattpad
If you read this before. Sorry i changed a few things
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It was dark, Mo couldn't even recognize her own hand in front of her face. She felt dizzy. Was this normal considering she just died? The last thing she remembered was being in immense pain while holding Luke's hand in the ambulance. She could picture his face in front of her. Soothing words hardly left their mouths, nevertheless he was still able to smile comfortingly at her, after that everything went black. Surprisingly she didn't feel dead at all, she was just very cold. She checked her pulse, yup it was still there.
"Reggie, are you there?"
Nothing.
"Luke, Alex?" she heard her own voice echoing back.
"Bobby?"
Mo started to feel around, trying to figure out where the hell she was. The ground was cold and hard, probably stone or wood. Was this her grave? People for sure checked if she really died or if she was just unconscious. They wouldn't bury her alive. Her mom wouldn't let that happen. Her heartbeat quickened up, breath hitching in her throat.
"Guys, this isn't funny. A really awful joke. Reggie? Someone? Just talk to me, I'm scared" Mos' voice got louder and shakier the more she spoke, fear creeping up on her. Hairs standing up on her arm. It had to be her personal hell, she was sure of it.
In her nearly 17 years on earth she always tried to be good. Maybe it wasn't enough after all. Maybe she should have done more. Or knowing that this is where she would end up anyways, she could've started that fight with Dean Zucker for being mean to Alex. She also would have stolen that book, she really wanted but that was way too expensive for her. Apparently it wouldn't have made a difference.
"Please!" It sounded more like a statement than a question. Tears prickling in her eyes.
"I don't wanna be alone. Not right now! Don't let me be here alone. You guys know i don't like the dark."
She went quiet, trying to listen if something moved, tears running down her face. After what felt like hours, she still hadn't found a wall or a Sunset Curve member. So she stopped trying. The space felt eternally big. Taking deep breaths she held her knees, shaking immensely, trying to prevent a panic attack. Alex taught her how. She wished he was here with her, holding her close, whispering soothing words in her ear. She didn't like being dead, it absolutely sucked. For Mo, the afterlife was a big joke.
It was still, all she could hear was her heart beating in her chest and her own heavy sniffs. Silence was one of the many things Mo hated because then she had time to think. And she didn't like thinking, it never came to a good end. So she normally kept busy.
Why wasn't she with the others? Where were they or more importantly where was she? They died together, didn't this give her a right to be with them? Was this a middle stage before she goes somewhere else? Maybe she's lucky enough to go to heaven, but Mo never believed in God.
As much as she tried not to think about her mom, her face kept interrupting her thoughts. Mo hoped that her mom was somehow relieved, she didn't have to worry about her daughters future anymore, her mom could finally take a break. Maybe try to be happy again. Perhaps Mos's death made her mom realise that her grades were enough, that she already worked herself to death.
Hours or maybe even years have passed, it was so hard to keep track. Time moves so slowly. The situation for Mo still hasn't changed. The boys weren't with her, she was all alone. She had calmed herself down a while ago, figuring, now was not the time for an after death crisis. Sometimes, when she felt the need to stretch her legs, she got up and walked in circles, trying to keep herself busy. It was tiresome and boring.
Suddenly everything began to shake. The girl tried to hold onto something, but there was nothing, only her. Mo tried to shield her eyes, as light started to flood into the space.
Then she fell. It was a gruesome feeling. Her stomach turning in the process. She screamed, closing her eyes as she prepared for impact.
It was bright, light making her temporarily blind. Mo had landed on marble floor, her muscles aching as she tried to sit up. Everything hurt, but she couldn't die again could she. She nearly started crying as she heard voices, quietly talking to each other. She thought she would never hear other people again, even if it wasn't the ones she desperately wanted to hear.
Slowly her eyes started to adjust to the hasty light. There were a few people around her, yet nobody seemed to be bothered by the girl who just fell from the ceiling. Her eyes explored her surroundings, it felt familiar but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. So the girl stood up, dusting off her hands.
"Uhm excuse me?" Mo tried to get the attention from a woman sitting on a brown couch nearby. "Could you tell me where I am? I am a bit lost." she looked at the woman expectantly but she didn't respond. "Okay? Rude." Mo told the woman and turned around.
It was then when it clicked. She was at the museum! Of course it felt familiar to Mo, how could she not remember before. The yellow marble floor was still the same, clashing with the green walls. Paintings hanging neatly next to each other, some statues standing in the middle of the otherwise empty room. She spent nearly every Weekend here, looking at the paintings, getting inspired and taking a break from the world.
Next to the studio, the museum was her favourite place in the whole city, hell her favourite place in the whole world. It felt comforting being back, still she noticed that it had changed, the pictures on the walls weren't the ones she remembered. She was here the day before she died, Mo didnt know that they would change some of the paintings. Barb, the older lady at the reception, would have told her for sure. Shaking the thought away, she had more important things to deal with at the moment.
A couple, a boy and a girl, was standing close to one of Mo's dad's favourite paintings: Nighthawks by Edward Hopper. She took a second to look at it, letting the warmth it brought wrap around her. Before walking in front of the painting to face the couple.
"Hey, uhm, I'm Molly and I'm a bit lost, could one of you tell me if you saw where I fell from?" She gestured to the ceiling and the spot on the floor she sat on only minutes ago. Again she got ignored.
"Please, I'm still underage and i really wanna go back to my friends." she pleaded, thinking that the word underage would make the people react. "Hello?" She waved her hand in front of the couples faces. They were talking to each other, totally unaware of the girl standing in front of them.
"Dude, please? I'm freaking out here." Mo tried to grab the arm of the girl standing face to face with her, but her hand went right through.
"What the..." The girl looked at her hand, confusion prominent on her features.
"So you can't see me huh... interesting," realization hit her like a brick. "I am a ghost! What the hell! How is that possible!" freaking out, she repeatedly tried to touch the couple. Over and over again her hand went straight through them.
"Okay, uhm thank you two for... nothing, really." Her thoughts were racing. Why is she a ghost? Are Luke and the boys also haunting LA? Mo had too many questions for her own brain to handle.
For the first time in a long time she smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, it was one of those smiles you make when everything is so shitty that it's somehow amusing. Maybe she had gone insane.
She felt lost and confused. Oh, what she would do to see the boys right now. Mo went to the bathroom to splash some water in her face. The mirror in the bathroom was dirty, yet she still saw herself. Green, tired eyes staring back at her, her eyeliner smudged from all the crying, white curly hair standing up in all directions, her once brown lipstick was barely there anymore. Maybe she was glad that people couldn't see her right now, she looked like a mess.
Wetting a paper towel she tried as best as she could to rub her remaining makeup off and put her hair in a ponytail.
"Are you telling me that I died in an average looking outfit?" she mumbled to herself, noticing the clothes she was still wearing. She died in black sweatpants and an oversized Sunset Curve shirt. She nearly couldn't forgive herself.
Mo had the whole day planned out: make sure she's at the concert early to set up the merch table, tell the boys that they were great, maybe go eat something, change into a good concert outfit and give the boys the outfits she was working on since they got the gig at the Orpheum. But no, life rarely wanted to go her way. Accepting the outfit, she left the museum.
The sky was blue, no cloud in sight. The heat felt heavy on her skin, warming her up. Mo looked around, slowly making a plan in her head. First she would go check out the studio, then she would go home. She nodded to herself, yes that was a start. Maybe her friends were chilling at the studio waiting for her.
There was heavy traffic on the road. Normally she knew the way back, but somehow everything didn't look the same. The street names changed and the buildings also didn't seem recognizable. Mo decided that again, this wasn't her main problem, it was a problem to deal with in the future. She was sure in her capability to find back, she had done it so many times before.
If she ever saw Luke again, he really needed to teach her how to not get lost in a city she lived in. Because Mo was very much disoriented. How could everything change so drastically? She wasn't gone for that long. Slowly but surely she made her way to her second home, the beloved studio.
Without knocking she tried to open the white doors, but again her hand went through the handle. Why was a paper towel no problem but a door handle was? Being a ghost was definitely way more difficult than she originally thought. Shrugging, Mo tried to think of all the ghost things she knew about. They can fly right? She jumped. Nope, not one of her abilities. Mo tried to walk through the doors. And it worked! She smiled to herself, patting her own shoulder. "I'm becoming a pro at this ghost thing."
The studio was empty. It looked like nobody was here in ages. A thick layer of dust covering pretty much every furniture in the room. There was still a chance the boys might be here. Mo was hopeful.
"Dudes? Are you here?" Again no answer. Mo walked around, a lot of things were familiar, like her sewing machine in the corner. That meant that maybe just maybe some of her clothes were here as well. They were not in her usual corner so the girl searched the whole place.
"Yeeees!" she screamed as she found something in the attic. Pulling out some of Alex's clothes she found some of hers as well.
"Omg how i missed you guys, i'm sick of these clothes." Mo really started to talk to her clothes. She found Reggies old dark green shirt and a black midthigh length skirt. "There has to be a belt somewhere here" she rummaged through the piles of clothes, "ahh found it!" Mo changed and already felt a thousand times better than before.
She looked around once more and the piano was new... It eventually dawned on her that maybe she was in the dark space for a bit longer than she originally thought. Sighing, she plopped down on Luke's couch, chaughing as dust flew in the air. Waving her hands through the air. She didnt wanna go home and face her mother, so she decided to stay here for a bit. "Soooooo, what do i do now?"
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